


... And Videotape

by xtricks



Category: due South
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-31
Updated: 2010-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-11 09:26:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a big, messy bust--blackmail and dirty pictures--and, of course, the Mountie had gotten himself in the middle of it.  So here Ray was, right in the middle too, looking for Benny.  He caught sight of the back of a dark head, "Oh, thank god."  Then did a double take.  It couldn't be his Benny--not like <i>that. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	... And Videotape

**Author's Note:**

> From: 'Struck by Lightning' 'zine, printed 2004. Fraser/Vecchio, NC-17. Originally web-published in 2005

"C'mon, c'mon! What? You got nothing better to do than watch?" Ray shoved his way to the police tape then ducked under it. There were more cops than perps but no sign of the press - yet. He just wanted to find Benny and get out of here before the Mountie was splashed all over the news. This wasn't the kind of place for a Mountie, heck, this wasn't the kind of place for one Ray Vecchio, Det 1st grade. Vecchio didn't work Vice and he was looking at a dozen nearly naked reasons right now. He grumbled his way through the crowd; it was taking too long to find Benny, there was no red uniform to catch Ray's eye and there were far too many things he didn't want to look at. This 'Club Persephone' was nearly as bad as that place Benny had dragged him through last year, chasing after his runaway bit of Canada.

It was a big, messy bust--blackmail and dirty pictures--and, of course, the Mountie had gotten himself in the middle of it. So here Ray was, right in the middle too, looking for Benny. He caught sight of the back of a dark head, "Oh, thank god." Then did a double take. It couldn't be his Benny--not like _that. _

"Benny?" The shoulders were right and the sentry duty pose but…

"Ray!" Benny swung around with a sudden, satisfied smile and, oh my god, it was him. Ray shucked off his coat so fast, he nearly got rug burn.

"Oh, my _god! _" He shoved his coat at him. "Put this on."

Benny took the coat, looking faintly confused in the flashing lights of the cop cars. He'd done something to his eyes. They looked enormous and vividly blue in the dark. Ray felt a headache coming on; Benny was wearing make-up--again. "Ray?"

"This is no time to be clueless, Benny, put on the coat before someone sees you." Why wasn't Benny blushing? Wasn't he embarrassed? Wasn't he _freezing? _ Maybe he wasn't blushing because Ray was using up all the embarrassment in the greater Chicago area. He could feel sweat breaking out under his arms and down his back, just _looking_ at Benny.

Sending Benny undercover hadn't been his idea. No, the Mountie had just gone and arranged it all and Ray was left to follow along, like a surprise party no one had told him about. He shivered, stealing a stunned glance at Benny's dark smudged eyes. This gig wasn't like Ms. Fraser. Not at all.

Ms. Fraser had been, respectable, elegant, _refined. _

This Benny was… faint silver glitter on the arch of his cheekbones and down the pale line of his arms, bare to the shoulder. Dark smudged eyes, midnight blue bedroom eyes. _Fuck me_ eyes. Some kind of - Ray didn't want to call it a shirt - top made of iridescent fabric as blue as peacock feathers was tucked into a pair of dark blue jeans that were laced with some kind of silvery thread so that they shimmered like ice over deep water. That horrible top had a mesh band that just happened to bare a line of skin across Benny's chest; Ray could see the circle of a pale nipple, drawn tight in the cold. He'd never _seen_ Benny's nipples before, Ray wasn't sure anyone in Chicago had. He couldn't stop staring.

It didn't make any sense that Benny could look like this. Suddenly that mouth, usually full of Inuit stories and courtesy, was just one sweet, wet come-on and Ray had to turn away, skin prickling and feeling like he wanted to faint or cry or run to confession because of the sins this Benny inspired.

"Ah…" Benny finally tugged Ray's coat over his shoulders. It was too small to button but at least Benny wasn't an advertisement for Chippendale Superman anymore. Ray couldn't look at him, couldn't even see what he'd seen before but… it wasn't like he could forget. Benny, like that, no one could forget him and Ray started looking around for a way out. He didn't want anyone to see Benny like this.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Ray," Benny said, trailing obediently behind him as they slipped along the side of the building and past the police line. Ray flashed his badge at the uniforms, grabbed Benny's wrist and hauled him towards the car. "That wasn't my intention."

"Embarrassed?" Ray unlocked the door, let Benny slide in and slammed it shut with him safe inside. "I'm not embarrassed, Benny just—Jesus-- _Frannie_ wouldn't dress like that. I'm not the one who should be embarrassed."

If she did, Ray would never let her leave the house.

"I see," Benny said stiffly, looking out the window, and _now_ Ray could see the red flush bright on his face. He could see the edge of a frown too and Benny pulled his borrowed coat closer. "Of course, Ray. I understand."

"Aw, Benny," Ray sighed and cranked the engine over. "Don't be like that. You know what I mean. All that -" he waved a hand towards Benny's subtly shimmering legs and the slicked back hair that suddenly made the line of Benny's neck look like a buffet dinner. "- that's not _you, _ Benny. You shouldn't be looking like… that."

Benny just looked out the window. "Like what, Ray? Something besides a toy soldier? A mannequin? I found this work exhilarating - and the opportunity to provide concrete assistance to those trapped in dire circumstances satisfying."

"Dire circumstances?" Ray ground his teeth, thinking of all the other men in that bar, where Benny had been dressed like _this_, in dark rooms, with loud music and colored lights shimmering on that magic skin; men brushing up against Benny and him too polite to shove them off, probably. "More like dumb circumstances--having sex in a fag club isn't exactly smart. Most of the guys who were getting blackmailed are the kind of creeps we try and put behind bars."

"Oh?" Benny was looking at him now, stiffly angry. Ray sighed, Benny was on a tear and arguing with Benny when he was wearing mascara wasn't high on Ray's list of things to do before he died. "I don't recall such contempt six months ago when we cracked the blackmail case at the Chinese laundry."

"That was different."

"Because they were heterosexual men?" Benny's voice was sharp enough to cut yourself on.

"No!" Ray snapped. Benny hadn't dressed up like… like candy just begging to be unwrapped for the laundry case. "Don't go putting words in my mouth, Benny!"

"Why then?"

"Oh, Benny… " Ray looked over at him. "Benny, you're wearing _polyester! _"

Benny stared at him, blinking those incredible eyes, then started to giggle. Ray laughed and didn't have to answer any more questions, which, by the way, was the point.

"Ray." Benny leaned on the roof of the car, looking in the side window as Ray let him out at his apartment. He looked so much like a street hustler that Ray glanced uneasily around, hoping no patrol car passed by just now. He _really_ didn't want to be explaining that the rent-boy leaning on his car was really his Canadian Mountie partner. Benny rubbed nervously at his eyebrow and Ray pulled his attention away from wondering if those jeans he was wearing came with padding in the crotch. "Do you think the detectives on the case will be looking at all the videos collected in the raid?"

"Of course they will, Benny," Ray said blankly, wondering why his exacting partner was sounding like he hoped some evidence would be _skipped_ for a change. In fact, looking at Benny's uncomfortable face, Ray had a bad feeling about this. "Why?"

"Well, ah -" Benny took off Ray's coat and began to fold it slowly, concentrating on lining the seams up precisely rather than meeting Ray's eyes. "There was a little trouble with verisimilitude--or, rather, securing my cover as a … sex worker."

"And this has to do with video tapes how?" Ray asked, voice cracking. He didn't want to hear Benny's answer but, like a train wreck, he couldn't stop it.

"Well, they do provide taped entertainment for the guests in the private rooms," Benny said.

"You _didn't -!_"

"Well, yes, I did."

"Get off the car!" Ray yelled, throwing it into gear. "Get off the car, Fraser, I gotta get to the station!"

Ray roared into the station parking lot and slammed the car into a space. He had to sit for a moment, hands shaking on the steering wheel with his eyes shut. He wasn't sure if it was anger or horror or… or betrayal he felt. Benny had let someone make a film, a _sex_ film, of him. Some dirty porn tape with Benny as the star. Ray wondered feverishly if Benny had performed alone or with … with someone else. Some _man_. Touching Benny, kissing him… doing things that men shouldn't do together. Benny.

Ray was starting to hyperventilate and he swung the door open and leaned out, feeling too hot, like his clothes were too small, like his skin was _electric. _ It was a scary feeling, a feeling he didn't want to look at. Ray didn't want to look through a pile of gay porn tapes either but… he had to, for Benny's sake.

By arranging to complain loudly--in Welsh's presence--about the case, Ray ended up with the odious chore of scanning the huge pile of videotapes bagged during the bust for evidence of blackmail or illegal acts. It took him two days to find Benny's tape and Ray saw more men doing bizarre things to other men than he ever wanted to.

Ray had been bracing himself for the moment when he saw Benny on the tiny screen down in the evidence room; his hand had been hovering over the 'stop' for days. But when it happened, when it _really_ happened, Ray didn't hit the stop.

There was Benny, walking into the frame, ducking his head and scratching at his eyebrow. He looked so _not_ himself, wearing clothes that hugged parts of Benny that were usually hidden under layers of wool and stiff Canadian courtesy. Ray watched him nod seriously at someone off-screen and couldn't quite match up the man on the TV with his reserved and painfully shy partner.

There was make-up again, dark over his eyes, shining across his cheekbones. Maybe lipstick because his mouth was as beautiful as a woman's, as the kind of woman who made tapes for men to watch. When Benny's tongue darted out--something Ray had seen a thousand times before—but this time, Ray's breath caught. This was _Benny_ and this was so _wrong_ and he couldn't look away.

"Well… " The cameraman's voice floated out of the speakers. "Go on already. We don't got all night."

"Understood." Benny's voice was tinny and strange in the cheap speakers, or maybe it was nerves. Ray licked his lips when Benny did, heart pounding when Benny's fingers curled under his top and he peeled it off … slowly. Ray was waiting for this to stop, for the tape to end, for Benny to laugh and blush and tell some Inuit story instead of unzipping his pants and sliding--with a sensuous wiggle of his hips--out of his clothes. This couldn't be real. Benny wasn't naked in a tiny room with a big bed and a camera. But he was.

"Oh, my god," Ray groaned when Benny lay down on the bed, and hammered his thumb onto the stop button. He sat there, shaking, staring at the static. He was so hard he hurt.

With trembling hands, he fished the magnet out of his pocket and ejected the tape. This was what he came for and Ray didn't have a moment's qualm about destroying the evidence--or at least this evidence. He trusted Benny, even a naked Benny. His Mountie wouldn't do anything criminal. Even if this was a Benny Ray had never seen--a Benny he never imagined--Ray still knew there was nothing criminal on that tape. So, he should erase it. Instead, Ray grabbed his coat and the tape into the inner pocket. It wasn't much more difficult to correct the evidence log to show there was one less tape than originally assumed. Then, tape banging on his ribs from the outside and his crazy heart banging away on the inside, Ray went home.

He had to wait; first there was dinner, then there was Maria and Tony screaming about Tony Jr's grades and then Ma had to try and calm them down and then _everyone_ was yelling. Then he had to wait until everyone went to bed, until it was late, until the whole city seemed silent. By then, slipping the tape into the VCR seemed like some strange reward. Ray sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped in silk pajamas and his bathrobe, with the sound so low _he_ could barely hear it and pressed 'play'.

Benny, naked on a red bed. Ray leaned forward, already shutting out the voice of the cameraman. All he could see was Benny, lying there with his fingers kneading the sheets and his face turned shyly away. His cheeks were as red as the comforter, under the glitter shining like snowflakes on his skin. "Benny …" Ray whispered. "Benny--Jesus, Benny--don't."

But he did. Benny stroked his own chest, thumb lingering on a nipple that tightened visibly. Ray groaned, clutching his bathrobe, Benny was so _responsive. _ He could see that - in Technicolor. Benny tweaked his own nipples; head arching against the pillow then his other hand crept impatiently down. The camera found him, half hard, and drew closer until Ray could see the flush darkened flesh, the oddity of his foreskin, the way that Benny pulled his knees up so Ray could see _everything. _

Ray could see everything, hear everything as Benny writhed on the bed. He could see the flex of his arm, listen to him breathe, and there, at the end, let out one lingering, helpless moan. Ray could feel the hard ache of his cock, dampening his silk pajamas. He could feel the grasp of his own hand, squeezing his own flesh, feel the pre-come drooling over his fingertips. He could see Benny and hear him and feel his own raw need but he couldn't _touch_ him.

At least, at least, Ray thought, lying spent and sprawled on his bed, no one else had touched Benny either. There had been no one on that red bed but the Mountie. He'd been alone in his pleasure, like Ray.  


* * *

  
"Okay!" Ray barged into Benny's apartment because he finally had to do something. He'd watched that tape, watched Benny, so many times. He could count the strokes, had memorized the moment when Benny stopped holding back, when he was looking _past_ the camera to something—someone--else and Ray couldn't _stand_ it anymore. There was the Benny he knew, looking at him with a dented pot in one hand and the smell of macaroni and cheese in the air, and the Benny on the tape. Ray couldn't fit them together. The Mountie who blushed every time a woman looked at him and the glitter streaked man who panted out his lust in front of a camera. "So, Benny, explain to me why you let some porno guys film you jacking off, because I'm not getting this."

Benny set the pot down with a clunk, looking stunned. "You … watched it?"

"Uhh--" Ray waved his arms, wishing Benny's apartment had decent pacing room, hoping that would start his brain up again. "Yeah, yeah I watched it Benny--had to watch it, right? Make sure it was yours. Then I--took care of it."

Benny's eyes narrowed. "Took care of it how?"

Ray froze, staring at the wall. Took care of it. Took care of it. How _did_ he take care of it? All he could think, right then, was how _Benny_ took care of it. The memory of just how Benny took care of it sank down to Ray's cock, making him twitch. "I--took care of it, Benny. I just did."

And I wanna know why--why did you _do_ that?" Ray wailed. "In front of strangers! Anyone could've seen that--could've seen _you_."

Benny was staring fixedly at his pot and there was something desperate on his face. "I wanted--wanted to be seen. By somebody. By anybody. Here … no one…" His voice shook but he swallowed and went on. "No one sees me, Ray. I'm just a statue, a stand-in, a symbol. No one sees me."

"Benny …. "

Benny looked up, eyes shining and so full of need that Ray stepped toward him - he'd never learned to say no to that look. "Except for you, Ray. You know more of me than anyone--anyone _ever_ has." His shoulders slumped again, face turning away but Ray saw the shame before he hid it. Because Benny couldn't hide from him, not really, not forever. "I can't stand it that there are things about me you don't want to see."

"Now you tell me this?" he yelled, breathing hard through that knot of strange betrayal that had lived in Ray's gut ever since he'd first seen that tape. "Not months ago? You gotta put it all out there on a videotape for dirty old men? You gotta tell me like that? You think, after everything we've been through, there was anything about you I didn't want to look at?"

"I wasn't sure the information would be welcome. I'm still not sure," Benny said, still clinging white knuckled to his pot of noodles. Still afraid, as if jerking off in front of a stranger was easier than this talk with Ray.

"Benny." Ray dropped his gaze to the tips of his shoes, then brushed his hand over his head with a weary sigh. He was a middle-aged Italian cop, a ladies man, a family man. All of that, just like Benny's serge, was what people saw. What they were supposed to see. What was underneath, like his persistently half-hard cock hidden beneath the folds of his coat, was supposed to stay there. Unseen. Except that Benny had changed that. He'd let - well, he'd let everything hang out. Was Ray going to do less? Was he going to let his Benny be afraid of him? "Benny, what I'm gonna tell you--no one but my priest ever heard before, you got that?"

"Yes, Ray." Benny took the chair across from him, solemn in the yellow kitchen light and the moment - framed by Benny's attention, caught in the blue of his eyes - was suddenly special, made for sharing secrets. This was Benny, his best friend.

"So, I get assigned to tape duty," Ray started, pushing the silverware set on the table around with his fingers. "And, by the way, I spent _way_ too much time looking at amateur gay porn than is healthy."

"I'm sorry," Benny said.

Ray batted his apology away. "But I find your tape, which is what I was there for. I got a magnet and it just takes a moment, Benny, to screw something like that up. And that would be that, right?"

Benny was watching him intently, like he was a caribou or some new kind of evidence to lick - and thoughts of licking distracted Ray for a moment. His voice was rough when he went on. "But I don't do that."

"That would be destroying evidence. I thought--."

Ray gave him an outraged look. "Like I was gonna leave it there? You want Dewey looking at your tape? Is that who you were thinking of?"

"No." Benny's voice was suddenly rough too and was studying his hands, pressed hard against the surface of the table. "What did you do with the tape, Ray?"

"I took it." Ray whispered. "I took it and I took it home and - and I watched it, Benny. I waited until everyone was asleep and I watched it all."

Benny didn't say anything, and Benny didn't say anything until Ray was sure _he_ shouldn't have said anything. Until he wished he hadn't said a word and that the ground would swallow him up whole.

"Why?"

"Who were you thinking of, Benny? When you did that tape?"

Benny stared at his hands, white knuckled, as if the table would fly to the moon if he didn't hold it down.

"Benny?"

"You," he flung out. Suddenly, Benny's shoulders straightened and his head came up, fiercely challenging. He was blazing, burning bright, like he had just thrown himself off a roof, like he was facing a train full of terrorists--crazy with the risk, daring Ray to shoot him down. Yeah, he'd jumped off a whole different kind of roof when he made that tape and now Ray had to follow. Ray had to follow, like he always did, because he couldn't resist that fire, that challenge. "I was thinking of you--could you tell? Could you tell I was thinking of you touching me? Could you _see_ it?"

"Yeah," Ray said roughly, feeling a heavy surge of lust wash away the shaky fear in the pit of his stomach. Yeah, he might _follow_ Benny, not lead, but he always knew where Benny was heading. "I know you, Benny. I could tell."

Benny sank back in his chair, breath leaving him in a raw sigh, freeing the table. He was looking at Ray, a fierce look that fed Ray's hunger. It was the fuck-me look from the bust. It was twilight blue bedroom eyes, it was need and lust and passion. It was Benny--the most irritating man in the world and the naked man on the tape. They were same man, for anyone who had eyes to see. It was_ his_ Benny. "Ray … I--"

"Get on the bed, Benny," Ray interrupted harshly. Benny flushed, gaze darting to his bed then back to Ray, tongue sweeping along his lip. Ray's breathing sharpened, cock pressed hard to his pants now. "We've been waiting long enough, don't you think?"

Benny blinked, a familiar flutter of dark lashes, then stood quickly. "Yes, yes, I agree. Long enough."

Ray trailed Benny to that stupid cot, hands fisted in his coat. He wasn't ready to touch. Ray had pretty much given up on pretending he didn't want to touch Benny, after those nights spent with that tape. But actually doing it still felt like a line in the sand. Touching Benny, there'd be no going back, not the least because Ray was sure that once he got his hands on that skin, he'd never want to stop.

Benny snapped his suspenders off his shoulders and laid himself out on his cot, one knee cocked, one leg still trailing to the floor. It was like the tape that loose sprawl like Benny had never heard of sentry duty. He gathered the edge of his Henley in one hand and pushed it up, slowly, fingertips sweeping in little caresses across his pale skin and Ray froze in place. It was like the tape, from the look in Benny's eyes--and now Ray knew that look was for him, had _always_ been for him--to the shiver of Benny's stomach when he touched one of his own nipples. "Did you like the tape, Ray?"

"Oh, _Jesus_, Benny."

"Did you?"

"You are such a bastard, Benny," Ray panted. He was hard. God, he was so hard. "You made that thing for me to see, didn't you?"

Benny's smile was feverish and sly. He twisted his left nipple between his fingers while his other hand skated restlessly over his belly, petting his own skin, inviting Ray to look, to see, to watch. "Yes. Did you like it?"

Manipulative bastard. "Yes." Ray shrugged out of his coat and let it drop. Benny's eyes traveled over him, seeing the crude jut of his pants over his cock, and his gaze grew heavy, hands stilling. Ray watched his breathing get fast and he gave Benny a sly smile himself. For whatever reason, he was the one Benny wanted and Ray wasn't going to worry about why. Not yet. He pulled his tie off, slowly, and watched Benny's hips shift restlessly. "So don't stop on my account."

Ray fumbled his shirt open with trembling fingers, unable to look away as Benny slid his hands down to his jeans, tightly drawn over his erection. He unzipped and pushed a hand inside the gaping fly. But he didn't take his pants _off_, damn him. He shifted, sighing, then the long lines of his forearm flexed as his half-seen fist pumped his cock. "I want to see you, Ray. I want to see …."

Ray yanked his belt free with a gasp, it clunked to the floor as he wrenched his fly open and watched Benny watching him. Benny watched him and pumped his cock and licked his lips and Ray felt like a shaky fourteen year old; like if he didn't get his pants open now, he'd come in his pants like he _was_ fourteen. His cock popped free, bobbing in mid-air, and Benny sighed throatily, rolling his hips. That was all Ray needed, Benny's open mouth, Benny's half-naked, flushed body, Benny sprawled out and touching himself because of Ray.

Groaning, Ray stumbled forward in his sagging pants, straddling one of Benny's thighs as his cock tensed and darkened, moisture slipping from the tip. Benny groaned and arched up, pulling his cock into sight at the v of his jeans, showing Ray how hard he was, how the red tip of his cock played hide and seek beneath his foreskin. Ray saw him, from the flush spilling like wine down Benny's neck and chest, to the shiny drops of pre-come scattered on his lower belly. It was Benny and there wasn't anything in the world to compare to that.

"Jesus." Orgasm gathered hot at the base of his cock, his balls were tight to the root and his skin prickled with sweeping, rising pleasure. Ray wrapped a hand around himself, hips jerking _hard - hard - hard_, pushing forward over Benny as he roughly pulled his climax out from his pumping fist and the red, spitting head of his cock. The cot creaked under them, please god, Ray prayed, let it hold just a few more moments. "God… god, Benny, o - ooh, _god! _"

"Ray, Ray, Ray… " Benny's voice was strained, desperate as he jerked under him, fist pumping fast. Ray's semen was streaked across his belly and chest, damp on his rucked-up Henley, caught on the edge of his jaw. Still shaking, ears roaring with his own crazy heartbeat, Ray burrowed his hand into Benny's pants, wrapping his hand over Benny's hot fist. He had to _touch_ him. He squeezed Benny's fingers, feeling pre-come seep over their joined hands, sharing the rhythm, feeling the scrape of zipper on his knuckles.

"C'mon Benny," Ray groaned. "C'mon. Come for me"

"Look at me – Ray…" Benny's voice broke but his eyes never left Ray's face as he arched under Ray, thighs shaking, head thrashing on his pillow. Then Ray felt the hot, beautiful gush of Benny's orgasm, saw the flood of it spill across his stomach and puddle around his navel.

Ray collapsed onto his elbows, on top of Benny - he'd never get the mess out of his shirt - and kissed Benny's red, panting mouth hard. Benny was all his, to see, to taste, to _touch. _ Benny tilted his head, clutching at Ray's hips, tongue pushing rough into Ray's mouth as they gasped each other's air. "I see you, Benny. I'm looking and I see you."

**END (011205)**


End file.
